


We Can't Even Fight Off Little Viruses!

by lazily_astray



Category: X Men
Genre: Erik can't bear his whining, M/M, Sick Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1681664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazily_astray/pseuds/lazily_astray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles Xavier is a professor in charge of the only school for mutants, yet he can't even regulate his cough medicine intake. The school's on vacation, and so Erik is now obliged to bear the baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can't Even Fight Off Little Viruses!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tokyoeye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyoeye/gifts).



> This is for my sick love to whom this is a gift.  
>  ~~it's tough writing with a block okay.~~

Erik had no intention of staying. The children were all home for their vacations and all the teachers were gone too. Everyone was sort of gone on a romantic trip with one another, and Erik could not recall when any of those romantic plots took place. Rather, he did not care. It was only going to end with destruction and pain in the end. Not to be a pessimist, but with the kind of battles they had to fight, it was inevitable.

He levitated his suitcase and made his way to the door. The hallway was deserted with an eery quiet. He didn't know where he was to go, but it didn't matter.  

A thunderous cough echoed. Erik jerked his head around, and the noise seemed to come from the television room. _Charles' still here, is h_ e. He didn't care and walked on. Another cough echoed throughout, and it seemed like Charles was coughing his lungs all over the place. Erik sighed. Leaving his suitcase, he made his way to the source of the noise.

Charles lay splayed across the sofa, half his limbs spilling out of the seats and his poorly tied robe. Some sort of cartoon was on television, but the young professor didn't seem to focus. He had his eyes shut, but was clearly awake. He had a box of tissues resting on his stomach and a very red nose. 

 _He's okay_.  Erik got on his toes to lightly tiptoe away...

"Erik?" 

He stopped in his tracks. "Yes, Charles?"

"You going somewhere?" He was barely audible with his rash voice. He looked like a defeated puppy. 

"Er, no. Just the kitchen." 

"For what, chocolate milk? That's all we have in there." He had a terrible slur.

"Yes. Chocolate milk." He began to leave. Erik had noticed the empty cough bottle beside the sofa. _Just can't regulate his doses, can he_.  

"It's funny how," Charles began, "we, you and me and everyone, is supposed to be a much, much modified version of humans." Erik gritted his teeth and turned back to him. "Our DNA has a much better structure than theirs, a better withstanding for survival." 

"Yes..." Erik wouldn't have understood his slurring, had he not been accustomed to Charles's constant references to his thesis. 

"My point is, we being mutants with all these gifts, can't even fight off little viruses!" Charles continued to cough into a tissue. He looked miserable.

Erik wasn't quite sure what to do. "You'll get... better..." 

Charles sat up with a jerk. He had a look of urgency. Something very important had occurred to him, and Erik came closer to hear.

"Shouldn't," the sick man held Erik's face to pull him closer, "Shouldn't viruses be grammatically incorrect?" 

"What?" Erik pulled away. The fool was clearly babbling.

"Shouldn't the plural be viri and not viruses?"

"Go to sleep, Charles."

"I can't!" He whined, but Erik had already left the room. 

* * *

 

Charles awoke when one side of the sofa seemed to sink down. 

"Erik, you came back." The dizzy professor patted his companion on the head right before losing his balance. He fell back, leaning on the arm rest. Erik left the soup bowl he was carrying to levitate and pulled Charles upright. He had to keep an arm around him or he'd topple over. 

"Honestly, Charles, who the hell downs a whole bottle of cough syrup?"

Charles shook his head and held up two fingers. 

Erik knew he was a lost cause. All he could do was cover him with his blanket and change the channel. 

"Open your mouth,"

"What?" A spoon came flying in Charles's mouth and startled, he yelled. "Jesus it's scalding!" He frantically tried to fan his open mouth.

"What do you want me to do, blow in your mouth? Like mothers with little kids?" He wished he hadn't suggested that, because Charles was in fact as helpless as a little kid. He took a deep breath and leaned towards Charles's face, a confused face, and puckered to blow. Charles pushed his face away with both his hands in horror.

"Are you trying to kiss me?!"

"What? NO, Charles-"

"Kiss me with mouthful of soup?!"

"I was trying to-" Erik's face was as red as Charles's nose.

"Was I SO irresistible you couldn't even wait for me to gulp down the soup?!"

"You're sick, I wouldn't have even if I wanted to!"

"Oh please, viri are like tiny little robots with metal bits in them. You could just ward them off." He waved his hands around.

Erik levitated another spoon and this time after blowing on it, stuffed it in Charles's mouth. 

"Don't even talk." 

Charles drunkenly cuddled up to Erik, head on his shoulder, and as uncomfortable the latter was, he didn't budge. 

"Vous vous conduisez comme un idiot." Erik murmured. 

"Et vous," Charles gulped down another spoon, "comme un enfoiré."


End file.
